


Keeping You Between My Lungs

by HollowNightmare



Series: Geraskier Week 2020! [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Geralt doesn't really know how to people but he's TRYING, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mentions of violence/character death but it's pretty vague, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Slash, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, plus some secondary characters to move the plot forward but they're not important, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22761205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowNightmare/pseuds/HollowNightmare
Summary: written for day 3 of Geraskier week 2020: protection“I know it’s going to sound very dramatic, but I feel that something is going to happen — something bad. I don’t know what it is, but I’msure. I can’t sleep”. He took a steadying breath. “I hate to say this, but I’m a bit afraid”.“Hmm”.I can hear that.“So I figured — you’re a Witcher, you know about these kinds of things, and if you don’t, well, at least you can protect me, right?”Jaskier in need of protection and Geralt being protective, basically
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier Week 2020! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636423
Comments: 10
Kudos: 322





	Keeping You Between My Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> I was about to start writing an essay for my English Lit class when I stumbled upon a Tumblr post about Geraskier Week, and let me just say: that essay will remain unwritten.
> 
> Unfortunately I don't have the time to fill all the prompts right away, so I'm starting with day 3 (in the hope of coming back to what I leave behind at a later time).

It had been a long and tiring week. Jaskier was so exhausted he’d stopped talking, and Geralt was fatigued enough not to enjoy the silence around him. 

They had been traveling through a mostly deserted region, and the weather had been terrible, with strong winds, heavy rain, and occasionally some snow; when they reached the small town they felt as if a weight had been lifted off their shoulders and, wanting to get out of their clothes and into a bed, they went directly to the inn.

Thankfully they had enough coin to pay for two rooms, at least for the first night: after the last few days, they both needed the space and comfort only two separate rooms could offer.

Geralt had told Jaskier to have dinner without him; the bard had dined with the other guests of the inn: despite being in a pretty far-off area of an already secluded region, the town attracted quite a lot of travelers. Two merchants were chattering in a corner, a builder was getting drunk at the counter and telling the owner of the place all about the different types of stone walls, and Jaskier had struck up a conversation with a fortune-teller who didn’t sound very interesting, but was attractive enough to make him go on talking; however, he was so tired that he couldn’t even flirt right, and she ended up leaving him alone at his wobbly table, at which point he got up and went to his room, ready to call it a night.

He got out of his filthy clothes (while mentally complaining about how ruined they were), put on the only clean ones he had left, and went to bed, intending to sleep until at least midday.

Meanwhile, Geralt had gotten out of his armor, had a long bath, and eaten some dry meat he’d found in Roach’s saddle. He went downstairs and ordered a pint of ale, which was given to him quite reluctantly; he was once again reminded of how much easier his life was made by Jaskier’s good impression on people, then he decided not to dwell on it, drank his ale as quick as he could, ignoring the looks that were being thrown his way by the two merchants and the fortune-teller (the builder being too drunk, at this point, to be bothered by the presence of a Witcher), and went back to his room. 

He fell asleep thinking about how peaceful the last hours had been, and wondering when things would start to go wrong.

* * *

He didn’t have to wait long. 

The moon was high in the night sky, its light creating all sorts of shadows in Geralt’s room, when he heard someone knock at the door. He instantly got up, took the nearest weapon (a sharp silver blade, usually hidden in his left boot), got close to the door and listened attentively. He heard a heart beating faster than usual, and a couple of deep breaths. 

“Geralt? Are you waiting behind the door to see if I’ve come to murder you? Fear not, I would never”.

 _Jaskier_. _Of course._ He let him in, with a sigh that the bard correctly read as a _Why can’t I be left in peace?_ , and then proceeded to glare at him, waiting for an explanation as to why he’d been woken up.

Jaskier looked at him sheepishly, which wasn’t something that happened very often. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you, but- it’s, ah… I can’t sleep”.

Geralt went on glaring, and waited for him to elaborate.

“I know it’s going to sound very dramatic, but I feel that something is going to happen — something bad. I don’t know what it is, but I’m _sure_. I can’t sleep”. He took a steadying breath. “I hate to say this, but I’m a bit afraid”.

“Hmm”. _I can hear that._

“So I figured — you’re a Witcher, you know about these kinds of things, and if you don’t, well, at least you can protect me, right?”

He kept fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, which was something he did when he was really, really nervous about something — except it was usually angry husbands, not an unknown menace.

Geralt was about to tell him that he didn’t think anything was going to happen, and that he’d always protected him anyway so why come and ask him specifically, when they heard a stifled cry come from the room below them, followed by some kind of commotion. They looked at each other. Jaskier’s eyes were conveying an eloquent _I told you so_ , while Geralt’s were telling the bard _Stay put, I’ll go see what’s going on_.

He grabbed his sword and went quickly down the stairs. When he got to the room, he didn’t stop to check whether the door was open, and he busted through it. 

He found himself standing in a pool of blood. On the ground before him were the builder and one of the merchants, both dead; they were each holding a knife, and had multiple stab wounds. 

Geralt had no time to assess the scene further, because he was joined by the other guests of the inn, woken by the noise.

The other merchant, upon seeing his partner’s body, shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe he actually went through with it”, he said, incredulously. “His wife cheated on him with that man.” He pointed at the builder’s body. “It happened years ago, but he never forgave her, and swore he’d kill him, if he’d get the chance. I never thought he’d run into him here, of all places.” He shook his head once more. “The chap must’ve known how to defend himself”.

They all went back to their respective rooms, seen as there was nothing they could do now that couldn’t be postponed to a later time, during the day.

Geralt found Jaskier pacing and muttering something to himself.

“It’s the builder, right? He’s dead.” he said with a sad smile, before the Witcher could start telling him what had happened.

“Hmm”.

“I figured out why exactly I was feeling as if something was going to happen, you know. When I was downstairs, having dinner, I saw how one of the merchants was watching him. He had a strange look in his eyes, like he wanted to tear him apart. It’s just… I saw him, but I didn’t really notice what was happening and what it could mean, for both of them. Forgot it soon after. Didn’t linger on it for more than one second”.

He drew in a shaky breath. “I could have prevented this, if only I’d paid more attention. And the thing is — that’s all I do: I pay attention to everything. That’s how I’m able to write songs that people love and remember, that’s why I left my university and started roaming around. To notice things. And the one time it mattered I didn’t”.

He sat on the bed. “Why was he killed, anyway?”

Geralt grimaced. “He fucked the merchant’s wife”.

“Well, that’s just perfect, isn’t it? It could have been me. It probably will be, sooner or later”. Jaskier laughed bitterly.

Geralt was at a loss for words. He’d never seen his friend like this, and was acutely aware of his lack of social skills the likes of which would be required in this situation. But he knew what the bard was feeling, because he was feeling the same thing; the difference between them being that Jaskier’s job was composing and singing, while his was to save people, or at least protect them. And he’d let both of those men die, because he’d been too tired to notice what was going on. No point in thinking about that now, though. There was a very alive, very much in need of protection bard right in front of him, and that’s what he’d focus on. “No”, he remarked. “That won’t be you”. 

_Not as long as I’m here. Not as long as you’re with me._

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like, super quickly to try and post it on the actual third day of the Week, so if you found any mistakes or things that didn't work well plot-wise... well, that's why. I hope you didn't, though!
> 
> Feel free to tell me what you thought about it! Also, you can find me on [tumblr](https://pengwings-are-cool.tumblr.com).
> 
> Have a nice day!


End file.
